Silks
by MadDelight
Summary: Felicity Worthington finds herself intrigued by a certain Penelope Hayes. After a chance meeting perhaps both women get more than they bargained for.
1. Chance

**A/N: Let me say this quickly. This crossover combines Luxe series and Gemma Doyle Trilogy. Penelope's character comes straight from exclusively the first Luxe novel. Fee's comes from all three Gemma Doyle books. It just seems to me that both Penelope and Fee seem like they would make a perfectly daunting pair. **

**Title:** Silks

**Pairing:** Felicity Worthington/Penelope Hayes

**Canon or Alt. Universe:** Crossover.

**Setting:** Paris, 1898

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer: **Neither Luxe series, nor Gemma Doyle Trilogy are mine.

**POV:** Third person

**----------**

The Paris streets were filled with nice young men in suits, walking with pretty young women on their arms. All she could see was a swirl of fine gowns as the couples filtered into the Paris Opera House. After two years of living in the City of Light, this should've been a normal sight to the eyes of this certain young woman. But unfortunately, it was not. She had been holed up in the garret of an artist, who was very unknown and quite a pig. For the past six months she had been dealing with his company, in hopes that it would stave off her loneliness. But it hadn't. And now she stood in her slacks, smoking a cigarette and watching Paris's finest stroll into the Opera.

Felicity propped her boot up on one of the suitcases she was traveling with. The night breeze tossed her blonde hair around her shoulders. Even in trousers she was a lovely sight to behold. There was flat she was renting now, a room where no one asked questions. She was hoping to pick someone from the crowd to bring home that night, lift her spirits. But no one noticed her, except for the few society women who whispered about how scandalous she was being. Felicity smiled, amused, and tipped her head to anyone that found the audacity to stare.

Failing in her search, she dropped her cigarette and stamped it out with her foot. Her suitcases were light in her hands as she picked them up and turned into a cemetery- a shortcut back to the flat.

Gravestones stood ominously up from the earth, but Felicity wasn't frightened. The graves almost gave her a sense of calm, and reminded her of a girl with violet eyes and dark curls. She sighed. Yes, the cemetery was more of a home to her than any of the places she had stayed in Paris. Tombstone after tombstone passed in a blur and mausoleums rose up like great skyscrapers of the dead, displaying wealth in a morbid kind of way. A bitter laugh came from behind one of those ominous buildings. Felicity shook her head; she must've been hearing things. Traveling through a cemetery at night was definitely not one of her better ideas. She stepped slower now, quieter, almost daring the laugh to echo across the quiet grounds again. And it did, the distinct high-pitched laugh of a woman echoed throughout the tombstones. A flicker of light danced across the side of a marble mausoleum, and Felicity saw the shape of a young woman. She walked determinedly over to the stranger, wondering what on earth she could be doing in a place like this at night.

Right upon reaching the girl, Felicity noticed a flask in her hand.

"Hello." Felicity muttered softly, quite amused at the state she had found this stranger in.

"Oh, my lord." The woman dropped the flask and it clinked against the stones. She gaped at Felicity, her lips quivering. "Way to sneak up on me. What on earth are you looking at?"

Felicity glanced the woman up and down. If not for the bright blue eyes she would've thought the woman a reincarnation of her lost love. The woman's hair was dark and her features were fine, even by candlelight Felicity could tell.

"What are you doing out here?"

The woman scoffed, gathering her red skirts and straightening up. "I could ask you the same thing. What an awful thing to do, sneaking up on me like that. Why, I thought you were a mugger or a rapist."

Felicity quirked her brow. "You're lucky I was neither. Now, what're you doing out here?" She could tell that the dark haired woman was younger than herself, though only by a few years.

"If you must know. I was ditching the opera to enjoy myself for a bit." The woman spat, stepping right up to glare into Felicity's eyes. "What a strange color your eyes are. Grey like a storm cloud."

Felicity grabbed the girl's outstretched hand lightly. "Would you care to take a walk with me?"

"Yes," The woman snatched back her hand quickly. "I would care. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Felicity Worthington, at your service." She tipped her head to the angered stranger. "And who may I ask, is so furious with me?"

"Penelope Hayes." She bent over to pick up the flask and tucked it into her bodice. Felicity's eyes lingered a bit too long after the drink had been hidden.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, Miss Hayes?"

"The opera, Miss Worthington. My mother will be expecting me."

Felicity nodded. "Very well. Meet me tomorrow night, back here. Do you think you can manage that?"

Penelope turned, her gaze curious as she met Felicity's amused grey eyes. "Yes." She said slowly. "I think I can manage that." She gave Felicity a smirk before running off through the cemetery, her heels clicking on the stones.

Felicity bent down and blew out the candle. Turning to watch as the beautiful young stranger crossed the street. Her dark hair swayed in the breeze and Felicity noticed her vibrant red skirts. Such a woman had caught Felicity's eye. Perhaps, their chance meeting could turn into more with a little help from fate and womanly wiles. The whole walk home, Felicity smiled, thinking about Penelope Hayes- the young woman whose life she was about to change forever.

**********

**A/N: The Paris Opera House is a fictional place created for use in the novel and movie Phantom of the Opera and was used in the same context here (minus the phantom).**

**Mentioning of the "girl with dark hair and violet eyes" alludes to a relationship between Felicity and Pippa. Yes, Felicity loved her. And yes she is gone. **

**For time's sake this takes place two years after Gemma Doyle Trilogy ended and one year before the first Luxe novel takes place.**

**Hope that's not too confusing. **


	2. Crave

**Fee, Penelope, and Gemma not mine. Nor is Luxe, or the G.D. Trilogy. **

**----------**

The night air was misty, and the visibility less then clear. Penelope made her way to the cemetery as the clock tower outside struck eleven. She saw a flickering light by the same mausoleum that she had paused at last night. The blonde woman stepped out suddenly from behind the marble edifice, which nearly gave Penelope a fright.

"Miss Worthington." She curtsied, picking her crimson skirts up in one fair hand.

The blonde smiled slowly, it was almost a smirk. "Miss Hayes." She stepped forward brusquely, and grasped Penelope's hand.

"You owe me a walk." Penelope cautiously allowed the woman to hold her hand gently.

"Yes." Penelope nodded, eyeing the woman carefully. Not knowing if she fully trusted her as of yet, but loving the idea of a scandalous adventure. Penelope was one who loved a mess.

"Then follow me, Miss Hayes." The woman led her through the graveyard, carrying the candle in front of them so neither would trip on the uneven stones. Penelope watched as the woman led her down damp back alleys and dark side streets. The woman held her hand the whole way, as if she were afraid that Penelope would disappear at any moment.

The blonde led her up a rickety wrought iron ladder and into the back door of a second story flat. Penelope looked around as the woman lit more candles, allowing Penelope to get a better view of the place. There was a small table filled with liquor bottles of all sorts and empty glasses. There was a black dressing screen with fine gowns and a few trousers strewn sloppily over it. A few easels were spread about the room, covered in white tarps. And there was a bed, made up with satin turquoise sheets. Although the place was a bit rough, Penelope could tell that the woman had money. And the gall to live on her own in a city as big as Paris.

Penelope's new acquaintance eyed her curiously and walked to the table to pour a drink.

"So, does it meet your approval, Penelope?" She quirked a blonde brow and poured two glasses halfway full of amber liquid.

Penelope shrugged. "How old are you, Miss Worthington?"

"Felicity, or Fee if you please." She handed Penelope a glass and lingered as their hands touched. "Twenty."

"Ah." Penelope nodded, taking a tiny sip of the beverage.

"Won't you please sit, and tell me a bit about yourself." Fee gestured, but as there were no places to sit other than the bed, Penelope seated herself on the bare-wooden window ledge, feeling the draft of the night air.

She eyed Felicity carefully, realizing that the blonde really was stunning, perhaps even as stunning as herself, in a different way of course. Had it not been for the gentleman's clothes she insisted on wearing.

"I believe that I would like to hear you explain yourself first." Penelope took another sip from her glass.

Felicity sat on the edge of her bed and faced Penelope with a look of wry amusement. "Very well. I'm originally from England, but upon finishing boarding school I faked a marriage, took my fortune, and ran away to become an artist's model." She swirled the liquid around in her cup. "Now...?"

Penelope returned her new acquaintance's mischievous grin. "An independent woman, I like that. Now how about the men's clothing?"

The blonde threw back her head and laughed. "Corsets are not the attire of a free woman, nor are petticoats and gowns. Surely you can see that, or are you too naive?"

Penelope's hand fluttered to her chest. "Now wait just a minute. I meant no harm, just that it's odd. You must see that."

"Yes." Felicity nodded. "But you aren't naive. I can see that too. You're what, eighteen?"

"Soon to be." Penelope smiled, taking a swig of her drink.

Felicity gestured to the nearly drained cup. "A woman of my taste, I see." And she downed the rest of her own glass.

"You knew that last night." Penelope hiccuped.

"That I did." Felicity nodded, setting the glass on the floor. "Now, about you hm?"

Penelope twirled her glass slowly in her hands. "I'm from Manhattan. Here for the summer with my mother while our new home is being built."

Felicity smiled. "I have a friend who lives in America. Your family is new money?"

"Yes." Penelope hissed, a bit taken aback.

"Really, don't worry about scandals here. I am a living scandal, obviously." Felicity assured, walking over to take her new friend's glass.

"But I don't even know you." Penelope scoffed.

Both glasses clinked together as Felicity set them on the table. "No, you don't. But here you are, with a woman you barely know, drinking and sharing conversation."

Penelope nodded, cautiously standing and walking around the flat. Felicity's eyes followed her as she walked over to an easel and went to lift the canvas.

"Go ahead, look." Felicity urged, suddenly standing right behind Penelope, her warm breath blowing against the girl's fair neck.

The tarp floated to the ground, as Penelope gawked at the painting underneath. In it was Felicity lying on an artist bed, posing quite scandalously, wearing nothing more than a violet heart-shaped necklace. The painting accentuated the soft curve of her hips and the slope of her breasts.

Penelope stepped back and looked away quickly.

Felicity laughed. "So, you must have a suitor in Manhattan then. What's his name?"

"None of your business. But he's the most eligible bachelor in all of New York, and he's mine for the taking." Penelope flushed scarlet in irritation.

Felicity stepped forward, pinning the dark haired girl between her and the wall. "Did you know," She whispered in Penelope's ear. "That women respond to touch more then men. In fact, it's said that we _crave_ it."

"I-I don't- Ooh." Penelope shuddered as Felicity's hands traveled up under her skirts smoothly and lifted them back to bare her stockinged legs. She had no idea how this situation had arisen, but she felt utterly out of control of diffusing it now. Warm fingers began tracing circles on her inner thigh, and Penelope squirmed; she had no idea that she could lose herself so, to a woman's touch. The fingers slipped skillfully under all the fabric and she felt the wetness between her legs spread as fingers explored forbidden flesh.

"It's a pity you don't enjoy a woman's company more often." Felicity bit gently on the girl's ear.

Penelope felt a tugging sensation and then finally something moving inside of her, two warm fingers, causing her hips to buck and a moan to emit from her lips.

"Because you see, I know my way around a woman. I know exactly how to please her. And doing so satisfies me." Felicity grinned at the young woman under her thrall. "Penelope..." Felicity muttered, her voice low and alluring as the girl swayed with her created rhythm.

In that moment, Penelope knew she had lost all hope of regaining her self-control.

********


End file.
